


Jilted

by MelodicSunshine



Category: Addams Family (TV 1964), Addams Family - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Party, Drama, Drama & Romance, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, F/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:22:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28323786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelodicSunshine/pseuds/MelodicSunshine
Summary: Unbeknownst to Gomez, helping a drunken Ophelia had more consequences than he could have ever imagined.
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams
Kudos: 12





	Jilted

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas everyone! Have the first chapter of an idea that's been floating around in my head recently.

Gomez smiled, looking around at all of the guests that filled his home. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, chatting amongst themselves and clinking glasses to toasts that went unheard over the loud music. The Addams family never usually hosted parties, especially not Christmas parties, as the holiday was deemed a bit too cheerful for everyone’s taste. But somehow, with his lovely wife’s coercion as well as a few threatening invitations, she managed to get a good chunk of family members to gather for a night of entertainment. He sipped occasionally on his wine, mentally thanking Thing for handling the alcohol. Lord knows he couldn’t be trusted around champagne bottles, let alone anything with a cork in it. He learned that the hard way when an attempt to open such a bottle ended with him holding an ice pack to his swollen eye. But nonetheless, the drinks came out wonderful, and everyone seemed to be enjoying them.  
  
Though it seemed that some enjoyed it more than others, as he spotted Ophelia stumbling around the living room, barely keeping her head up. It wasn’t any secret that Ophelia Frump was a lightweight. By the way she was tripping over her own feet, he could tell that she had bit off more than she could chew, or sipped more than she could drink, in this case. A little part of his brain told him to check on her, make sure she didn’t fall or do anything stupid. But then again, that was only a small part of him.  
  
“Tish,” He leaned over to whisper to his wife, who was currently preoccupied with rehanging a few decorations that had fallen as the night went on. “You might wanna take a look at your sister.”  
  
Morticia turned around, and immediately noticed Ophelia, who was now standing in the center of the room, absentmindedly bobbing her head to the soft classical music. “Well, she seems to be enjoying herself. Why did you want me to look?”  
  
“I’m not trying to judge by looks, but I think she’s had a bit too much punch. Watch.” They looked back at her, and found that she had decided bobbing wasn’t enough, and was now dancing vigorously. Only this wasn’t the gentle twirling or swaying that came with music like this. She was throwing her arms around wildly, kicking her legs into the air. On top of this, she tried singing along to the music that most definitely didn’t have any lyrics, babbling nonsense that only became breathier as her dancing persisted. Gomez clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh, which earned him a side-glare from Morticia.  
  
“Gomez.”  
  
“Heh, apologies, cara.” He chuckled. “I’m sure she’s having fun.” He tapped at the empty glass in his hand. “I’m gonna get more wine, I’ll be right back.” Giving his wife a quick peck on the cheek, he went over to the kitchen, elbowing past Fester and Mama, who were clearly enjoying the show Ophelia was putting on. As he grabbed the half-empty bottle on the counter and poured, he could hear their ‘encouragement’ from the living room.  
  
“What a dancer!” Mama complimented, chortling into her palm.  
  
“You know what would be a real kicker? If you tried a backflip!” Fester added.   
  
Upon hearing that, Gomez stepped out into the living room, abandoning his wine. He looked around to see where she could be, before he was met with the sight of Ophelia, who was currently standing on top of the banquet table Lurch had set out. It seems as though she was about to take Fester’s advice, and backflip off of it. Before he could intervene, she leapt off, screaming in delight like a child on a rollercoaster. Luckily, Lurch was nearby, and managed to catch her before she could hit the floor. She squirmed a bit in his arms, before she was gently placed down.  
  
“Aww…” She pouted, stomping her feet. “I would’ve done the most graceful flip, and you stopped meeeeeeee!”  
  
Gomez ran up to her, trying to ease her steadily growing drunken temper. “It’s alright, maybe later on you can try aga-”  
  
“No fair, no fair, no fair!” She cried, pulling at her hair.  
  
Now this was a lot less fun. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of what to do next. She was clearly way too intoxicated to be left alone, and he didn’t want to risk her getting injured. She looked around and spotted Morticia across the room, giving him a familiar look that meant anything but happiness. She beckoned to him, and he followed, looking over his shoulder to make sure Ophelia would stay there.  
  
“Not laughing now, are we?” Morticia asked him, adding a bit of humor into her snark.  
  
“Well, dancing _is_ a bit different than diving off the dinner table.”  
  
“She’s definitely not in any place to be left unattended.”  
  
“You can say that again.” He pointed over to the blonde, who was still having a temper tantrum. “But what can we do for her?”  
  
Morticia bit her lip in thought, and snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it. I’ll go upstairs and set up the bed so she can lie down, maybe get her some water so she can sober up. You can watch her and make sure she doesn’t hurt herself or break anything.” The sound of a china cabinet toppling over startled both of them. “Break anything _else._ ”  
  
“But Tish, she’s unpredictable,” He whined. “What if she tries to-”  
  
“Good deeds don’t go unrewarded.” She grinned, cupping his cheek in her hand. “Can’t you do this for me, bubele?”  
  
Gomez melted into the touch, already drunk off of the affection. “Of course I can, querida.”   
  
“I won’t be long. Just keep a good eye on her.” She pet his hair and left. He watched as Morticia ascended the stairs, and let out a sigh as she left his sight.  
  
“Alright… let’s just get this over with.”

_________________________

“Ophelia, it’s alright.” Gomez’s voice bounced off of the bathroom walls. He tried his best to comfort her, resting a hand on her as she cried over the toilet bowl.  
  
“But why does she have to cut the petals off of the flowers?” She sobbed. “They’re so lovely, they don’t deserve to be cut!”  
  
“Maybe Morticia was doing a good thing.” He explained. He should’ve known she was an emotional drunk. “Those flowers did have some unsightly colors.” He replied honestly. He winced at the poor choice of words, and her sobbing only grew louder.   
  
“Unsightly? Do you think all plants are hideous?!”  
  
“No, no no no!” He raised his hands in defense. “Not all of them. Some of them are pretty. Like black orchids, or poison ivy.”  
  
“Gomez?” She turned to face him, eyes watery and unfocused.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
“Do you think my daisies are pretty?” She pointed to the flowers growing atop her head.  
  
“Your daisies? Well, uh. That’s a bit of a tricky question.” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t really… like daisies at all.” His eyes widened when he saw tears beginning to well in her eyes, and he backpedalled. “B-But! When they’re attached to you, I think they’re nice. It really matches your, uh, bright hair.” He chose his words carefully, and inwardly sighed in relief once he saw her light up at the compliment.  
  
“Thank you, dear Gomez. Such a flatterer you are.” They shared warm smiles for a moment. This friendliness was cut short, however, when Ophelia turned her attention back to the toilet, throwing up the dinner she indulged in earlier.

_________________________

Gomez held onto Ophelia’s hand as he led her outside, sitting her down on the porch. The outside had a lot less things to run into, and he had hoped getting her some fresh air would make her feel better. He could see by the way her head hung to the side that she still had a long way to go before the alcohol would get out of her system. He watched as she traced shapes into the fallen snow on the steps.  
  
“Are you feeling any better?”  
  
“I feel dizzy, like I might fall over.”  
  
“Can you stand?”  
  
“I probably can. Let me see…” She pushed herself up and stood, holding her arms out for balance. She giggled when she found herself not immediately falling to her knees. “Ah! I can stand!”  
  
Gomez chuckled. “That’s great. Now come sit back down until your dizziness goes away.” He held out a hand to help her sit down again, but she refused.  
  
“I can move around on my own, thank you very much.” For a moment, he thought that she had finally sobered up, and felt relief. That was until she started running forward, feet crunching against the snow as she frolicked around the front yard. He groaned and went after her.  
  
“Be careful!” He yelled out to her. She turned her head towards him, blowing him a raspberry as she ran. That momentary distraction came back to bite her, as she stumbled over a rock she hadn’t seen, and fell straight into the white blanket below her. “Ophelia!”  
  
He knelt to check on her, and helped pull her back up. Her hair was now wet, and little clumps of frost clung to her eyelashes. She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering from the cold. “F-Freezing.” She mumbled, looking down at the ground.  
  
He tugged at her arm. “Come, let’s go inside so you can warm up.”  
  
“No!”  
  
He groaned again, not hiding his annoyance this time. “Why not?”  
  
“I want to watch the snowfall.” She stuck out her bottom lip and gave him a pleading look. “Pretty please?”  
  
Gomez thought for a moment. If he let her in, then she would only bother the guests or try to get more punch, and he certainly didn’t want to take care of her for even longer. Not to mention the hissy fit she’d probably throw if she didn’t have her way. So he shrugged. “Fine, you can stay out here.”  
  
“Yay!”  
  
“But!”  
  
“But?”  
  
“You can’t be running around like that. Not until you start feeling better.”  
  
She crossed her arms, letting out a hmph. “Alriiiiight.”  
  
“And…” Gomez shrugged off his coat, and placed it on her shoulders. “Wear this. I might like the idea of getting hypothermia, but I’m sure you don’t.”  
  
Ophelia looked up at him, beaming. “Thank you.”  
  
He couldn’t help but grin. “No trouble at all.”

_________________________

  
“How did you even get my razor?!” Gomez cried, using all his strength to hold Ophelia back as she slashed at the air.  
  
“I found it on the bathroom sink! Now let me go!”  
  
“What are you going to do with it?!”  
  
“I just want to know what’s underneath all that hair on Itt!” Upon her saying, they both paused as they heard frantic chittering coming from the chimney; Cousin Itt had definitely heard that.  
  
“Why do you want to know so badly?”  
  
“Haven’t you ever wondered?!” Gomez paused for a moment, genuinely pondering it.  
  
“I mean… it wouldn’t hurt to try…” He shook his head. What was he thinking? “No. Drop the razor and I’ll let you go.”  
  
“But-”  
  
“Drop it.”  
  
Once he heard the sound of something hitting the carpet, he released his grip on her. She fell softly to the floor. “Well, what do I do now?”  
  
“Look, I don’t know. How about…” An idea popped into his head, and he grabbed her hand once more. “Hey, let’s go to the conservatory. We just got the prettiest batch of wild roses, I’m sure you’d like it.”  
  
“Really?” She asked, her eyes lighting up.  
  
“Mhm.” He smiled, and silently hoped Morticia hadn’t cut any of them yet, lest he get his ear chewed off.  
  
“Oh, goody!” She clutched onto his arm as she was led to the conservatory. But something caught her eye, and she stopped them just as they were at the threshold. “Gomez,” She gasped. “Look!” She pointed above them, and he took a peek. Right above, clear as day, was one of the many mistletoe he had hung the night before, hoping to get a kiss from his wife every chance he got. “Mistletoe.”  
  
“That it is, that it is.” He avoided eye contact, and tried pulling her past the threshold into the room. She didn’t budge. He glanced back to find Ophelia giving him a mischievous look. He soon caught on. “Oh, uh, Ophelia, no.”  
  
“But Goooooommeeeeez!” She whined, pawing at his chest. “It’s mistletoe. It’s a Christmas tradition to kiss whoever is under it.”  
  
He huffed. “There’s no law that says I _have_ to kiss you. Just a tradition.”  
  
“Oh yes it is a law!” She ran a finger along her mouth. “The law of my lips!”  
  
Now he was panicking a bit. “Uh, Tish!” He called to his wife. Where was she?  
  
“Why are you calling her?”  
  
“Uh, she’s coming by with water for you.” He turned his head towards the stairs. “Morticia!”  
  
“But I feel fine, honest. Now just a quick kiss.” She leaned her face in closer, and he tugged at his collar.  
  
“Again, I don’t have to.”  
  
“And why is that?”  
  
“Because I’m a coward.”  
  
“As if I haven’t heard that before. Now you’re only making excuses.”  
  
“Not at all. I just don’t see why I have to kiss someone just because of a stupid plant.”  
  
Now she took offense. “A stupid plant?! You dare call mistletoe stupid?!” She continued to bicker on, but he blocked out her voice, eyes glued to the staircase. Nothing. With a deep sigh, he caved.  
  
“Alright. A quick kiss, huh?” Ophelia nodded. As quick as he could be, Gomez gave her a tiny peck on the cheek, and hoped she was happy with that. He half expected her to slap him for being so hesitant.  
  
What he _didn’t_ expect was the feeling of Ophelia’s hands on both sides of his face, as she pulled him in for a longer, deeper kiss, right on his shocked lips. His eyes widened, and he watched as her eyelids fluttered as she pulled him in. She seemed almost entranced, and the only thing that broke her out of it was the sound of glass shattering nearby. Gomez was the first to turn his head to look, and his face paled. Standing there was Morticia, who had dropped the glass of water she was holding, causing it to break on impact. His eyes flicked to see her face, which held an expression he couldn’t read. It was a mixture of shock and confusion, no doubt from walking in on her own husband locking lips with her sister. Ophelia gasped rather late, only staring down at the carpet, which was now soaked with water.  
  
With surprising restraint, Morticia cleared her throat and turned around. “Excuse me!” She yelled to the rest of the partygoers, everyone facing her. “This has been a most wonderful party, but I’m afraid we’ll have to cut it short. Thank you all for coming!” She spun around, while everyone was quietly chatting and gathering their things to leave. The three stood there in silence, watching as member after member left the house, leaving only Mama and Fester, standing near the kitchen.  
  
“Well, uh, we’ll just be heading to bed.” Fester said, gesturing for Mama to follow him.  
  
“Alright, good night!” Morticia replied with a voice so mockingly sweet it made Gomez’s stomach lurch. He watched as they both left upstairs to turn in for the night, and silently pleaded for them to stay. Morticia crossed her arms, gesturing to her husband’s hand, which still held Ophelia’s. With a panicked noise, he let go of it. “Ophelia, I believe you should leave as well.”  
  
Seeing no point to argue, she did. Head still pointed to the floor, she walked over to the front door, and Gomez silently took note of how straight she walked, like she was stone-cold sober. Once he heard the sound of the door shutting, he finally decided he should open his mouth.  
  
“Querida, listen-” Morticia held up a hand, and he stopped talking. She took a deep breath in through her nostrils, and spun on her heel.  
  
“I suppose it’s a good thing I set up the bed then.” And with that, she left as well, never turning around as she walked upstairs to retire for the night. Gomez only stayed in place, weighing his options. Should he go upstairs to apologize? Probably not, by the looks of things, she didn’t want to even look at him right now. Would he be able to sleep in the same room as her tonight? The answer was definitely no. He groaned, running his hands through his hair. He looked around the living room and wandered into the kitchen. Discarded glasses and plates were everywhere. He figured he would clean up the mess from the party now since he had the time, even though Lurch could easily do that right now. He just wanted to keep his mind preoccupied with something else.  
  
Because he knew, at least for tonight, he’d be sleeping on the couch.  



End file.
